Chapter 201

Chapter 201. Greeting (1)

The ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍plague began with the arrival of the harsh winter.

Anagin ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍still remembered that time vividly.

It ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍had started with Brontas.

An ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍old man who, in his younger days, had been a powerful strongman and had taken it upon himself to protect the village from beasts.

Of ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍course, he was nowhere near Anagin's level.

In ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍any case, despite his age, the burly Brontas collapsed just as winter was beginning.

At first, no one thought much of it.

He might have once been a strongman, but he was still an old man. Everyone assumed he was simply feeling the effects of old age and that a little rest would have him back on his feet.

However, time was not the solution.

If anything, it only made things worse.

Far from recovering, Brontas's condition deteriorated further.

His complexion turned pale, his face became gaunt, his lips dried out, and eventually beads of cold sweat formed across his forehead.

Then, little by little, more people began showing the same symptoms.

The village men and women who used to nag him, the elderly who gave him snacks, the friends who did stupid things with him, the girls who laughed alongside them, the noisy neighborhood children.

Even his father and mother.

The only difference was when they fell ill.

Every one of them was struck by the plague.

Back then, there was nothing Anagin could do.

Beating beasts to death was his specialty, but healing the sick was beyond him.

At best, taking advantage of the Gigant trait that made him immune to disease, he buried the dead in place of the other villagers.

Mrs. Drisina, who had thanked him for being such a good friend to her son.

Mr. Targon, who made charcoal and supplied it to the village.

Grandpa Drakos, who always handed out sweets whenever he saw children.

Skermas, who was timid but had a keen eye for gathering medicinal herbs.

Marke, who always looked up to him, saying his big brother was the coolest.

Mrs. Brike, who had a fierce personality but baked incredible bread.

The cheerful Serma, who loved making everyone laugh.

Grandma Halmi, whose sewing skills remained unmatched despite her age.

Nerga, who had asked him to dance with her during the village festival.

...And everyone else in the village.

Anagin had buried them all.

Alone.

In the freezing winter.

He had no complaints.

It was only natural that the one who couldn't catch the disease should be the one to bury the dead.

Still, he couldn't help feeling miserable.

As though someone were mocking him, saying this was all he was capable of.

As if to prove it, at some point he had started hearing a voice every now and then asking, 'Shall I help you?'

'I ignored it every single time... except once.'

At that moment, his little sister's face flashed through Anagin's mind.

She had surely—

"...Are you okay?"

Just as Anagin was about to lose himself in his memories, the subordinate woman called out to him.

Thanks to her, he snapped back to reality.

"Ha..."

Anagin opened his mouth wide and unconsciously rubbed his lips.

Then he checked his condition.

His breathing had quickened, his heart was racing, and a crushing pain spread across his chest.

The back of his neck had grown so stiff it hurt, his pupils were dilated, and his body trembled ever so slightly.

"Fuuu..."

The moment he realized something was wrong, Anagin slowly exhaled from deep within his lungs.

Forcing himself to regulate his breathing, the tension gripping his body melted away in an instant.

"Aaaah..."

Keeping the momentum going, Anagin rubbed his face and gradually relaxed.

How much time passed after that?

"Ah, sorry. I suddenly felt like acting like an idiot."

Massaging the back of his neck, Anagin apologized to the subordinate woman.

It was time to get back to the main topic.

"So? What exactly is this plague? Ah, could you at least tell me its name first?"

His words came out half a beat faster than usual.

He knew he shouldn't let his emotions show.

But this was difficult.

After all, Anagin didn't even know the name of the plague that had wiped out his village.

It felt as though he had been beaten senseless by someone whose face he'd never even seen.

The thought disgusted him.

But now, he could finally learn the truth.

"...It probably doesn't have a name."

"Probably?"

"I don't know for certain. I just... think I do."

Ah...

Come to think of it, she had said as much.

Not that she knew.

Only that she thought she knew.

Nodding in understanding, Anagin asked again.

"Then can you at least tell me what you do know?"

The subordinate woman didn't answer immediately.

She stared at him silently for a moment.

Anagin didn't rush her.

This was information he never would have even thought to ask about if she hadn't brought it up herself.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Finally, she opened her mouth.

"...I think... it was a disease created by my father... along with his brothers, sisters, and nephews."

"........."

Anagin gave no response.

He simply stood there, frozen like a statue.

The only movement was his hand repeatedly clenching and unclenching into a fist.

The information had come too suddenly for him to process.

His body had momentarily stopped.

Fortunately, as the seconds passed, Anagin gradually digested what he'd heard.

"So..."

"The Great Twelve Gods created the plague? Is that right?"

"...Yes."

"Why?"

The subordinate woman, who had been speaking with her eyes closed, opened them.

Then, sounding genuinely curious, she asked,

"You're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry at you? You're not one of the Great Twelve Gods."

She had just said it herself.

The ones who created the plague were her father and his siblings and nephews.

They were the Great Twelve Gods.

Fortunately, the subordinate woman wasn't one of them.

She was, for lack of a better term, just a damned lesser god.

A lesser god created by her father to oversee the sea.

One whose power had been stolen by the Barbaroi Cult, forcing her to kidnap people under their orders.

She had nothing to do with the plague.

So naturally, there was no reason to direct his anger at her.

No.

Before that, there was something he had to clarify.

"But wait. Where did you hear something like that?"

The source of the information.

Judging by the way she spoke, even the subordinate woman wasn't certain.

Even so, the fact that she was willing to tell him suggested it was likely true.

At the very least, she believed it was.

Not certain… but highly probable.

Anagin decided to verify the source first.

Only then could he decide whether to believe it.

"I overheard some of the elementals who serve my father talking about it. A few of my sisters were talking too."

"What exactly did you hear?"

"I heard them complaining that there were too many unbelievers."

"Unbelievers?"

Anagin tilted his head.

After all, the people in his village had believed in the Great Twelve Gods too.

They lived in the middle of nowhere, but outsiders visited every few years, so everyone at least knew of the Great Twelve Gods.

"I'm only repeating what I heard."

"Ah, right. Go on."

"One day, someone said that the Great Twelve Gods had created a disease to wipe out unbelievers with false beliefs. One that would gradually spread outward from Hellas."

A throbbing pain spread through Anagin's head.

It felt as though his heart were pounding inside his skull.

Thump.

Thump.

Irritation surged through him.

He wanted to smash and destroy something right then and there.

But he didn't.

That would have been idiotic.

And he had no intention of becoming an idiot.

"Why do you think that's the plague that spread through my village?"

"I don't have any concrete proof. I only heard it secondhand too. It's just... the timing fits. And I have a feeling."

"Reasonable enough."

Despite the vague basis, Anagin accepted it without complaint.

He himself relied heavily on instinct.

If someone's intuition was strong enough to bring up something like this, then it deserved to be acknowledged.

"So you're saying the Great Twelve Gods spread a plague to kill everyone who didn't believe in them?"

"I don't think that's it. From what I overheard, they seemed to mean a specific group when they said 'unbelievers.' Something like... people with false beliefs?"

"That's confusing. Are they talking about the Barbaroi Cult?"

"Maybe... but I don't think so."

Anagin agreed.

For one thing, no one in his hometown worshipped pigs or fish.

Besides, the Barbaroi Cult was operating far too openly.

The whole thing was giving him a headache.

Unbelievers...

Yet people with false beliefs?

Wasn't that contradictory?

Maybe everything the subordinate woman had said was nonsense after all.

'But... it doesn't feel that way.'

His instincts told him this wasn't something so trivial.

It was nothing more than intuition.

But that intuition had carried Anagin this far.

After remaining silent for a while to gather his thoughts, he spoke again.

"One last question."

"Already?"

"There's no point asking you anything beyond this. The rest isn't something only you would know."

"...What is it? Go ahead."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

In a sense, it was the most important question of all.

Why had she chosen to reveal something like this?

Even if she hadn't been involved personally, her father, Poseidon, certainly had.

"You think it's a trap?"

The subordinate woman let out a mocking smirk.

It was an unpleasant smile.

Yet somehow, it also looked sorrowful.

"No. I'm just curious, so don't take it the wrong way. If you don't want to answer, then don't."

He genuinely wanted to know.

But he had no intention of forcing her to answer.

She had already helped him more than enough.

Perhaps sensing his sincerity, the subordinate woman let the mocking smile fade.

Instead, she turned to look out at the sea.

The vast ocean stretched endlessly toward the horizon.

"You said you don't like me, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Not a second of hesitation.

The subordinate woman chuckled.

"That's good. I don't like you either."

"That's hurtful."

Anagin shamelessly spouted nonsense, but she ignored him and continued.

"And I don't like humans."

"I guess that's fair enough. Why?"

"Because humans are weak, cowardly, cruel, and vulgar."

"Sounds like you had a lot of bad experiences while you were under the Barbaroi Cult."

"I did."

She admitted it without hesitation.

"At first, I asked for help. After they stole my power and forced me to cooperate with the kidnappings, I begged other practitioners to save me."

"And?"

"Most of them took one look at who they were dealing with and backed out. Once they realized it was the Barbaroi Cult, they got scared. Those were the better ones. Some said they'd help if I paid them. Others demanded that I give myself to them."

"Damn. Tell me who they are, and I'll beat them up for you."

"Hah, it's fine. I handed every last one of them over to the Barbaroi Cult anyway... Going to criticize me for that?"

"No. People like that deserve it."

"What a funny guy. Until recently you kept scolding me for being a kidnapper."

"My heart bends with the wind."

"...I don't like humans. No matter how diligently I managed the sea in my father's place, they were never grateful. Never satisfied. Then the moment something displeased them, they'd shower me with every curse imaginable."

"So being a god isn't exactly easy."

That was Anagin's assessment as he watched the subordinate woman grumble.

She agreed.

"That's right. It's not easy. Especially because it never ends."

"It never ends..."

Anagin echoed her words.

It made sense.

Gods lived forever.

Naturally, their work would go on forever too.

He could see how that might become exhausting.

The subordinate woman shifted her gaze from the sea back to Anagin.

"I don't like you."

"I told you, that's hurtful."

"But there is one thing I do like about you."

"Glad to hear it. Is it because I saved your younger siblings?"

"That too. But more importantly... because you never asked me for help."

"Hmm?"

Anagin merely let out a thoughtful hum.

A god who liked someone precisely because they didn't ask for help.

It seemed a little contradictory.

Though Anagin wasn't exactly in a position to say that, considering he had stubbornly forced her to bestow a blessing upon him.

"But I think I need to recalculate."

"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"The blessing I gave you was worth too much. And now I've given you valuable information too."

Anagin wanted to tell her to stop talking nonsense.

Yet before he knew it, he found himself agreeing.

To be honest, the blessing she had given him had been incredibly powerful.

And the information about the plague was far too valuable to have received for free.

If he didn't pay her back somehow, even he would feel uncomfortable.

"I figured this might happen, so I came prepared."

Having anticipated something like this, Anagin placed the payment he had prepared into the subordinate woman's hand.

"What's this?"

"Freedom's Thread."

Handing her the worn-out scroll, Anagin explained.

It was a magical tool that allowed users to share information.

Incidentally, it had once belonged to the fisherman mage.

"I've already registered myself as a user, so you'll be able to contact me no matter where I am. If you ever need help, call me. I'll help you once."

"......"

The subordinate woman stared blankly at the scroll.

For a moment, Anagin wondered if she simply didn't know how to use it.

Then again, she was a god.

Despite her youthful appearance, she had to be incredibly old.

Maybe magical tools like this were difficult for her to understand.

Just as he began wondering whether he should have Sphinx teach her how to use it, she spoke.

"I was actually going to ask for something else..."

"What?"

"Take Hippocampus as your familiar."

"Ah, for crying out loud. I said no."

"I have one more request."

"You really don't listen to me, do you?... What is it?"

"Hey. Stop calling me 'subordinate woman.' Call me by my real name."

"Your name?"

"Yes."

"...What's your name?"

For the first time, Anagin asked her name.

Only then did she seem to realize she'd never actually told him.

"...Eulimene."

"Eulimene..."

Anagin slowly repeated the name, savoring it before offering a proper greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Eulimene."

The subordinate woman—

No.

Eulimene smiled.

"It's nice to meet you too, Anagin."

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